Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.

All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
for ages.

emotions
sat heavily on my chest
squeezing my heart
and burning my head

so i piled three pillows
on top of one another
and tried to scream
the emotions out

nothing changed
except that now
my throat hurts and
my pillows are concerned

so i laughed
at my failed attempt
and wrote a poem about it

29.04.20